


Understanding

by sparrow30



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow30/pseuds/sparrow30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity understands computers. They just make sense. She knows all the steps in the intricate dance between human and machine. She knows what's required of her, knows how to do things well, how to do things right. She sometimes wishes interacting with people was always as easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding

Felicity understands computers. They just make sense. She knows all the steps in the intricate dance between human and machine. She knows what's required of her, knows how to do things well, how to do things _right_. She sometimes wishes interacting with people was always as easy.

 

* * *

 

“Felicity, what the hell happened?” Oliver growls as he storms into the room, angrily tugging his hood down now that he's back in the safety of his underground fortress.

 

“I'm sorry Oliver,” she says quietly as she stands up from her desk, knowing full well that sorry isn't what the Arrow wants to hear right now. “There was nothing I could do, he changed the private key.”

 

“You said you could break his system, we were relying on you being able to break his system. _ **I**_ was relying on you Felicity.” Oliver's voice is cracking with emotion and it breaks Felicity's heart to hear. She knows how badly he wanted to catch this guy, they all did after he claimed his third victim yesterday, but there really was nothing she could do.

 

“I know, I really am sorry, but without knowing the new encryption key they're using, I can't do anything.” It sounds weak, like she's making excuses, but she knows that Oliver doesn't want a math lesson right now. She also knows he doesn't want to hear about how Felicity spent six hours yesterday evening writing an algorithm to disable the guy's personal security fortress where he's currently holed up, an algorithm based around the private encryption key the Arrow had sourced for her the other week. She's sure he doesn't want to hear about the extra two hours she spent on top of that writing an Android interface so Oliver could track the algorithm's progress on his phone - she knows how much he hates not being kept in the loop, not knowing what's going on. She's currently running on a heady mix of thirty minutes sleep, caffeine and adrenalin, and she can feel the tears welling up behind her eyes. She bites her lip to try and stop them flowing, she can't cry, not here, not now.

 

She wants to defend herself, defend her program, but she can't because that's not what Oliver needs to hear right now. So instead she lets him rage, lets him curse her technology (her precious technology that did exactly what was asked of it; it wasn't its fault that the rules of the game changed) and criticize her code. And when he's finished beating the crap out of one of his punching bags, once he's stepped away from being the Arrow for an evening, and he comes back to apologize to Felicity, earnestly and honestly ashamed of the way he acted, Felicity is happy to move on, to put it behind them.

 

And when Oliver brings her an updated private key her program runs flawlessly. The Arrow swoops in to his stronghold and brings him out begging and pleading, while Diggle reassures the girl he had locked in there with him that everything is okay, she's okay, and Felicity feels a warm shiver run up her spine to know that something she created, something she wrote, actually helped keep people safe.

 

* * *

 

Felicity understands computers. She never has to worry about being too much of herself around them. Computers won't laugh at her when she babbles, or fluffs her words (apart from Siri, but Felicity has never liked iOS anyway). Computers accept Felicity for who she is, high heels and purple lipstick and all. As long as she knows the rules, the code, the language, computers will treat her like anybody else. It's just a shame society won't do the same.

 

* * *

 

They need to infiltrate a hacker network to bring down a big bad who is using the community to shift dirty money. It's a task that hits close to home for Felicity, this is her turf they're messing with and it makes her angry that somebody is abusing it like this, it feels like something sacred is being tarnished.

 

There's a hacker convention currently running in Star City, and Diggle's sources say that there's a good chance some of the Boss' minions will be attending as part of a data collection mission. If the Arrow can put pressure on one of these minions then they might be able to get closer to their Boss, but first they need to be able to track them, and this convention is the opportunity they've been waiting for. It makes sense for Felicity to go. She's been to these things before, knows how they work, and she won't raise suspicion because she clearly knows the industry. Plus, she wants to. Nobody messes with her home and gets away with it.

 

She stands in front of the mirror and sighs. She starts by removing her designer glasses and replacing them with something more chunky. Next she scrapes her hair back into a pony-tail, and carefully wipes off her makeup. Off comes the bright blue dress and on go the jeans and baggy t-shirt. Piece by piece she removes her armour, removes the quirks of her very personal fashion sense and replaces them with industry standard, with what she'll be expected to look like at one of these conventions. It doesn't matter that online she is an established and respected figure in the community (and wasn't that what drew Felicity to this underground world in the first place, the fact that she could be whoever she wanted to be and nobody would think they knew enough about her to tell her otherwise?) and it certainly doesn't matter that she could probably run rings around 90% of the guys in attendance this evening. If she walks in wearing a dress and heels, bright eye shadow and matching nail polish, nobody will take her seriously. It's tough enough being a girl in the industry, it's next to impossible to be _that_ sort of girl. Felicity might adore computers, but that doesn't mean that she adores the boy's culture that seems to go with it.

 

About thirty minutes after arriving, she spots one of the guys on their list, chatting to a skinny teenager at a stall with a big “Spider Software” banner above it. Trying to act casual, she saunters up to the stall. “Sorry to interrupt, I'm a big fan,” she says lightly, hoping that her words don't sound too forced. Truth be told she hates Spider technology; their methods for large data-set scanning are far too heavy-handed for her tastes, and don't even get her started on their frankly abysmal security protocols.

  
The two guys pause briefly, her target not even bothering to hide his raised eyebrow, before ignoring her and returning to their conversation, acting for all the world like she doesn't exist.

 

After that Felicity doesn't even feel a little bit guilty about slipping the tracking bug into the man's back pocket as she walks away.

 

* * *

 

Felicity understands computers. She understands when they're being petulant – and don't try and tell Felicity that computers don't throw hissy-fits, she'll laugh in your face and then ask you to write something in Objective C and then maybe reconsider your argument – and she understands how to work around it. When her code is refusing to run but her compiler is telling her that everything is fine, she knows that there's always a solution, it just sometimes takes a lot of hard work and patience to find it. She wishes it was that easy to fix Oliver when he's in one of his moods.

 

* * *

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She finally ventures after Oliver breaks his third stick on his training pillar. He turns toward her, panting heavily, eyes unfocused like he had forgotten she was in the room.

 

“I just mean, pretty soon you're going to run out of those stick things, and I know how hard they are to get hold of, so if you wanted to talk about…whatever, rather than taking it out on your training equipment, I'm always here…but if you wanted to carry on that's totally fine too, I always enjoy watching you spar. Not that that's why I'm always here of course... ” Felicity lets her rambling trail off, feeling the color rise high in her cheeks. She just wanted to say something reassuring, and as usual ended up sounding like an idiot. Really good Felicity, really good.

 

Oliver breathes heavily for a long minute, and Felicity toys with her hands on the keyboard in front of her. “It's nothing, honestly,” he finally sighs, before going back to whacking his training structure.

 

Felicity knows it's not nothing, but she doesn't know what to say. So she turns back to her computer and concentrates on the distress beacon she's currently developing. Maybe having a shiny new toy to play with will help Ollie out of his funk. She hopes so; she's not sure how else she can help.

 

Later Diggle tells Felicity that Sarah just left on a long, potentially dangerous mission, and Felicity knows that a new gadget isn't going to solve anything. Oliver sulks for three days before a new criminal starts rallying the gangs in the Glades, and the Arrow is too busy dealing with this new potential threat to be concerned with _feelings_. Felicity is glad that Oliver is feeling better, she just wishes there didn't have to be a threat to the city for it to happen, wishes there was more she could do.

 

* * *

 

Felicity understands computers. She understands computers better than she understands herself, but that doesn't make her a catch-all for every complex technical problem the Arrow team ever face. She doesn't know how to tell Oliver and Diggle that being able to infiltrate the Federal Network and retrieve files containing the formula for MiraKuru - and wasn't that a shock twist, finding out that the Government was performing its own tests with the dangerous serum - really doesn't give her any experience in manufacturing an antidote. She doesn't know how to admit to them that in this situation, she just doesn't understand.

 

But that's okay, because Barry understands chemistry.

 

When Felicity watches Barry measuring various liquids into vials, counting under his breath as the beads of liquid drip, drip, drip into the glass container; she knows that she's watching him in his element, completely confident in his abilities and perfectly content surrounded by test tubes and chemicals.

 

And when Barry goes off on a tangent of the various properties of the ionic structure of the serum, how interesting, how _unique_ its composition is, and just _imagine_ all the other things it could be used for, the rest of the Arrow team can only stand and nod until he realizes that he's been the only participant in the conversation for the past 10 minutes. Felicity is reminded of that time she tried to explain to Diggle how image processing software actually works, how cool the underlying technology used for facial recognition is, and before she knew it she had constructed a prototype for fooling the system used in airports (and that's going to get her into _so much_ trouble someday) and Diggle had started sparring with Oliver while he got bored waiting for her to finish.

 

And when Barry growls at his centrifuge to behave itself or he'll replace it with the shiny new model he saw in Science Weekly, she fondly remembers the argument she had with her tablet the other day when it became convinced that the wireless signal was a Trojan virus just because she had tweaked a couple of (perfectly harmless) settings so she could access it from anywhere in Verdant. She was still arguing with it actually, but that was another matter entirely.

 

Felicity understands computers. But she thinks she might also be starting to understand Barry. She thinks she wants to understand him more, and that thrills her and terrifies her in equal measures.

 

* * *

 

They're all working late one night, with Diggle and Oliver out tracking a lead in their most recent case – a new human-trafficking ring has sprung up in the Glades which needs to be shut down ASAP. The night has turned into a glorified stakeout though, and the tech support required from Felicity has been fairly limited after the initial set-up phase. As a result, Felicity and Barry have spent the last hour debating whether human-realistic androids will ever be a reality while eating take out.

 

“Okay, let's just set aside the fact that human-realistic models are beyond creepy,” Barry argues as he digs into his take out container, twizzling his chopsticks like a fork in a way that makes Felicity want to pluck them out of his hand and show him how to use them properly. “You can't give a computer system a conscience, a personality, how would that even work?”

 

“You'd be surprised at how easy people are to fool,” Felicity replies with a grin. “One of the first AI systems was a text-based 'digital psychologist' program. It was just a set of questions that the program would ask at various intervals based on keywords in the human responses, but it was so convincing people thought that there was actually a person typing on the other end!”

 

“Yeah, but that was years ago, when people didn't get what computers were, there's no way you'd be able to convince people with that sort of thing now!”

 

Felicity raises an eyebrow, considering. There's really only one solution to this conversation. She quickly gets up and goes to get something from inside the drawers of her office desk, returning to join Barry on the floor and placing in between them a small robotic dog, silver all over apart from his black button nose. She flicks a switch on his belly, and the little thing bounds to life, stretching and yawning as he wakes up. “Barry, I'd like you to meet Fido. Fido, meet Barry.”

 

“Fido, you seriously called him - oh hi boy!” Barry exclaims happily, as the dog trundles over to him, nudging his leg and whining. Barry reaches down to pat him on the head, and Felicity can't conceal the grin on her face.

 

“I bought him about a year ago. His original programming was pretty basic...so I rewrote it.” She explains absently as they both watch the puppy start to explore his surrounding area. “He keeps me company when Oliver and Diggle are out...or at least he used to I guess.”

 

She looks up to find Barry staring intently at her, and she feels the breath catch in her throat. Barry had been helping them out on and off for months now, and it's gotten to the stage where she finds herself missing his company on nights like these when he's not around. Silly, she tells herself, soon he's going to go back to Star City permanently and you'll have to be content with Fido for company again. Maybe she should look at upgrading him, there's a great fetch routine she's been dying to try...

 

“This, this is really incredible,” Barry comments softly, earnestly, and Felicity seriously needs to start breathing again soon. “ _You're_ really incredible Felicity.”

 

“I- um- thanks?” she stammers out. Barry quirks his shy smile, and Felicity really wants to lean over and kiss him but she has no idea if that's acceptable. There are no rules, no protocols for this. She's in way over her head.

 

“I've-” Barry's voice comes out a little scratchy, and he coughs quietly before continuing, which Felicity can't help but find adorable. “I've been reading up on this synthetic fur compound they've started manufacturing, maybe I could make him a little furry pelt.” Barry's voice is hesitant, questioning, as if he's not sure if what he's suggesting is allowed. “And then maybe, I mean if you're not busy or anything, maybe we could take him for a walk around the park together, say on Sunday at noon?”

 

* * *

 

 

Felicity understands computers. And now, she lets herself hope as she applies lipstick in the mirror and waits for Barry to pick her up for their third date, she thinks she's found somebody else she understands. And maybe, if she's very lucky, she might have found someone who understands her right back.

 


End file.
